


The Eldest

by erisantic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Angel Family, Angel Wings, Angelic Grace, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Harry Is Michael, One Big Happy Family, Winchester and Angel Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 08:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8883397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erisantic/pseuds/erisantic
Summary: Three days after the apocalypse is started, Harry Potter wakes up with a splitting headache and a case of mistaken identity. He is Harry, but he is also Michael, the first angel. Now he has to help the Winchesters stop his brothers from destroying the world, and hopefully, finally reunite his family once again.





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> In which the author has a particular fondness for Harry-is-Lucifer stories, but thinks he could be better suited to a different archangel. This story has no pairings. Harry is Michael. :D

_And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light._ Genesis 1:3

A spark was lit. A single brilliant spark in the endless universe. He came into form as a being unrecognizable, the first Creation after the destruction wrought by Leviathan upon this land. He was not of Earth though. No, he was of Heaven. Gigantic and unfathomable, his vast black wings could grow to stretch across the Garden of Heaven. Increasing its beauty with the millions of glowing lights along his feathers.

He was to be a warrior of God. Tasked to protect Heaven and Earth from any threat that may come, though there were none now. Full and burning with righteous might and always eager to please his Father, he paroled the Earth, admiring it's many creatures. He was an angel, the first of many.

And God named his first archangel.

" _Michael."_

His first days were a blur, being guided by his Father around the Earth. Flying through it's skies and discovering its mysteries. Then came his happiest day. He was getting a brother! Little Michael jumped and spun, wings fluttering in joy. He sang his rejoices, and danced his praises.

When the new being was finally brought into Heaven, it was the most beautiful thing Michael had ever seen. He adored it immediately and vowed to protect his new brother while they defended Earth together. The tiny fledgling squirmed in his Father's grasp, but relaxed when he was handed to Michael's awaiting arms. Small wings spread out behind the newest, all the colors of the most beautiful sunsets displayed his feathers. Bright reds and blushing pinks, vibrant oranges and soothing yellows.

Michael doted over his brother; teaching him to fly and fight, skipping patrols to play with him, and curling up with him in the garden at night to point out the constellations in the grand sky, the same lights reflected in Michael's own wings. His brother was more beautiful than any of the others, the Morningstar. Perfected from Michael's earlier form, and made to resemble their great Father. God loved his brother more, that was true. Michael didn't mind, he loved his brother more too.

And God named his second archangel.

" _Lucifer"_

Both he and Lucifer were giddy for their next brother. They spent time speculating on what his wings would appear like, whether they would be stars like Michael's, or sunsets like Lucifer's. In the end, they were both wrong. As they stared down at the small bundle, they could see his multicolored brown wings. The many earthy colors of his father's healthiest soil, complete with vines and flowers spreading across them.

He was quieter than Michael and Lucifer, more serious. He would watch the two of them tussle and spar, studying the many intricacies of the garden. Watering it's many plants, and caring for it's creatures. Michael taught him to fly and together all three swooped through the skies daily.

And God named his third Archangel.

" _Raphael."_

They heard this would be the last of them. The archangels, leaders of God's army and all the lower angels. All three of them buzzed with excitement. Though Michael and Raphael were calmer than Lucifer, who tore through the Garden with unparalleled zeal. When he held their youngest brother, Michael had to constantly hover over him, lest he accidentally drop the little fledgling.

Michael taught the youngest to fly and spar, as he had taught all of them. Though Lucifer helped a great deal now that he was older. He groomed his new brother's wings constantly, as they always seemed in disarray. Feathers the colors of all the precious stones on Earth, with primaries and secondaries that looked as if they had been dipped in pure gold. They lacked the subtle beauty of Lucifer's, and were quite flashy for Michael's' tastes, but he loved them all the same.

And god named his last archangel.

" _Gabriel."_

* * *

Years past, they all grew and changed. Michael became more serious, standing tall and ordering around the new seraphs and lesser angels. Raphael became studious, threw himself into lore and literature. Gabriel turned into a skillful jester, entertaining the young ones and bringing cheer wherever he bounded. And Lucifer...Lucifer was rebellious and crass. Always pushing Michael's buttons while he was on duty, distracting him and causing the older brother to snap and chastise him. They were a mostly happy family, save for that one bit of tension.

Humans were the cataclysm that broke years of built up irritation into unforgiving anger. Michael had disliked the way his brother did things for years; Lucifer never listened to their father. He didn't understand how his brother could be so defiant. Michael was the perfect soldier, leading with a strong and balanced hand. Where Lucifer was all over the place, never quite committing and slacking off many of his duties. Just because he was the favorite, did not mean he could act in such a way! He had a duty, they all did! Michael contained his anger, told himself things would get better for all that time.

When Lucifer blatantly defied the order to love humans, that anger exploded. He didn't hesitate when his father told him to strike Lucifer down. This wasn't the brother he loved anymore, it was a twisted being of pride and sin. Michael saw no farther than that.

If Lucifer was Pride, the first archangel would always be Wrath. His anger new no bounds after Lucifer was gone, punishing the least of infractions, and casting sympathizers down left and right. Then, Lucifer twisted the human Lilith into a demon, and things only got worse for Michael. His brother was gone. The one he loved above all else, not that he would ever admit to it. He threw himself into duty, smiting demons and leading the armies of Heaven against it's first enemies.

Michael lost all eyes for what was once his family. Now, he was just the warrior of heaven, full of righteous fury. He didn't notice when Raphael grew cold, tasking another angel to take care of the Garden and following in his eldest brother's footsteps. Gone was all gentleness and emotion in either of them. Michael seeing it as a weakness in this war, and Raphael seeing it as the reason for Lucifer's fall.

Neither did they notice the wilting of their fourth brother. Gabriel went quiet and withdrawn, his usual exuberance and joy lost with all of his older brothers. The notorious pranks he played to keep up moral were also absent. Gabriel did his job as messenger, but all other times he was silent.

The war raged on, through the birth and death of a prophet. Humans remained oblivious to the battles, turning their ignorant eyes away in pursuit of their own happiness. Waging their own wars and destruction upon Earth. When his father finally locked Lucifer down in hell, the land was crawling with demons and the evil creatures of Eve.

When his father disappeared in his grief, Michael called for the retreat of the angels. In his mind, there was no need for angels fighting on Earth any longer. Unknowingly, he created a new class of humans who knew about and fought the supernatural, the Hunters. Because angels were no longer protecting the Earth, humans found their own way to protect themselves.

The biggest threat was neutralized, and Michel was content to leave the angels in Heaven until it returned. Until his brother returned. Because it had never been about humans, or even their father. No, it had always been Michael's uncontrolled rage at Lucifer's betrayal. Lucifer, whom he raised and cared for, who he thought would always stand at his side. He'd thrown his hurt into the fight, masking it with righteousness. He was no better than Lucifer in that regard. He would never love any being above his brother.

Gabriel left. No notice, nothing said. One day, he was just _gone_. Michael took the loss hardest of them all. How had he not seen it coming? Though, he knew exactly why...he'd been so caught up in his own feelings he'd failed his brother. Someone who he'd vowed to protect. Gabriel, who brought joy and laughter to their little family in the earlier days. Gabriel who looked up to him and Lucifer with adoring eyes.

The last brother Michael had, he discovered, wasn't even there. Raphael was distant and completely cold, not the quiet and kind young fledgling who watered the flowers. Raphael refused to talk anything but battle plans. For an apocalypse their father had queued for ages away!

Michael fell into despair. For the first time, he prayed to his father for something other than God's return.

" _Please, Father, I beg. Let me - Let me fix the family that I-I've broken."_ The first archangel sobbed.

He couldn't believe what he done to his brothers. Not just the archangels, but all the angels has hurt with Lucifer's fall. Now they all believed that being close, being a _family_ was forbidden and wrong. Michael couldn't begin to think of how to fix what he'd done. Guilt was a monster that clung to his head. How could he fix something when he'd been the one to break it in the first place?

He began to have blasphemous thought about the humans. If they dissipated maybe...maybe it would go back to the way it was before humanity. Warm and inviting and full of laughter and flight. With all his brothers and sisters communing together in the Garden, smiles on their faces. Grooming each other's wings and basking in the love of their family and their Father. Michael sent the same prayer again and again, begging his Father for an answer other than the destruction of His favorite creations.

And one day, God answered. The first archangel disappeared from Heaven.


	2. Grace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still had inspiration for this story, so I managed to crank out another chapter. Enjoy! :)

The harsh light of morning accentuated the hard lines of his face. Harry Potter moaned in pain, clutching his head with two hands in an effort to keep it on his shoulders. It hurt so bad, like there was a group of wildebeests playing badminton with knives under his skull. He rolled sideways on his bed, grasping out for his glasses so he could make his way to get medicine for his hangover.

The nightmares were getting worse. Vivid visions of a sword and blood, of red wings and someone screaming his name. _"Michael! Please!"_ But no, that wasn't his name. He was Harry.

Just Harry.

Harry who defeated Voldemort. Harry who ran from the wizarding world the first chance he got, desperate to escape the terrible memories and flashbacks. Harry who lost his friends because he didn't return calls. Harry who was guilty, always guilty.

He took three pills of the generic pain killer and washed it down with a glass of water. Wincing at the coldness of it, Harry continued to sip his glass and get lost in his memories. Some of them weren't his own, that was for sure.

A year ago, three years after the Battle of Hogwarts, he began having visions again. Only this time, instead of being centered on Voldemort, they were focused on _angels_ of all things. Specifically, featuring _Harry_ as the archangel Michael, oftentimes the moment he struck down the devil from Heaven. He convinced himself it was just his psyche coping with the after effects of the war. The feelings of regret and guilt started to bleed into his mind, and he couldn't tell if they were from the dreams or his own actions during the war. He'd distanced himself more and more, until he was holed up in the muggle world, ignoring any letters and drinking himself stupid. It was the only way to get rid of that look on the devil's face. The _devil_ , looking up at him with complete and utter betrayal in his dreams.

He had many recurring nightmares of the war, and of the angels, but that one bothered him the most. Harry even picked up a copy of the bible to read, but it said little about angels, and certainly didn't mention anything like what his dream suggested. That the devil was anything but evil.

The only other dream that bothered him was a vivid feel of walking into the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts. He assumed it was a memory of _that night_ at first. Except he didn't feel the dread or pain of accepting death, and he didn't see Voldemort's twisted face. He felt almost _excited_ in that dream. It was puzzling, perhaps not as much as the angels. He wasn't even religious for Merlin's sake! Why would he dream himself as an archangel?

The fire flared to life behind him. Harry whipped around, wand in hand, ready to attack. He relaxed when he saw who it was.

"Most people knock, you know." Harry quipped.

"If I knocked, would you have answered?" Hermione retorted. She looked good, the Ministry job must have been keeping her nice and busy.

"Good point." He said, taking another long sip of his water to avoid talking. Hermione shook her head and sent him a disappointed look. She could probably tell what he was doing.

She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut of by the shaking of the Earth. The ground rumbled like a fierce beast and a high pitched whining noise echoed through the room. The glass cabinets shattered. As did the cup in Harry's hand, causing a long slash across his palm. Hermione screamed for him, but he was standing stock still, head tilted to the side. He was listening, he could hear the voice in the noise.

It was an angel. He knew it was, somehow. He couldn't tell which one, but he wasn't going to stick around to find out.

" _I found you!"_

Harry didn't think before he was running for Hermione, grabbing her arm, and appreciating them away. She shook him off violently, eyes darting them around at the green grounds of Hogwarts, her eyes drawn to his bloody hand.

"What was _that_?" Hermione stared at him in disbelief. Her face said she didn't even know him anymore, and despite the anguish it brought him, Harry knew it to be true.

"It was a angel." He replied softly, Ducking to hide under his black bangs and holding his injured hand close. How had it come to this? How was any of this real. The dreams...were they trying to warn him?

"An angel?! Harry angels don't-"

"Exist. I know, I thought so too until now." Hermione glared at having been interrupted, but Harry shook his head at her. Now wasn't the time for one of their arguments. They'd had those many times before pulled away, but that mattered little now. He looked her in the eyes and she could tell he was serious.

"Hermione...you trust me?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yes, always." She said. Their differences may have become more apparent, and Harry may have disappeared from his old life, but she would always remember him fondly. They had been through a lot together.

"You need to get far away from here." He said.

"Harry what-"

"Go now!" He said, and without further hesitation she apparated away.

Harry turned to the forest, his heart thumping in his chest. He didn't know why or how, but he _knew_ he had to do this. He just knew. Whether it was the strange realization that his nightmares had been real, or the innate instinct he felt in his gut, he didn't know. He just knew he had to go into the Forbidden Forest. Steeling himself, Harry hurriedly ran at top speed towards the trees. Who knew how long it would take the angel to find him again.

Why were they coming after him now? After months of these dreams...angels just show up at his door. It was unnerving to say the least.

Deeper and deeper he delved into the trees, dodging the roots by his feet and clutching his bleeding hand to his chest. He ran and ran until he couldn't run anymore. Dropping to his knees in a clearing, Harry screamed in frustration. What was he doing? He knew he was here for something, but what was it!?

While angerly he banged his uninjured hand on the dirt, eyes scrunched closed, he didn't notice what was happening. Around him, each tree in the vast forest released a tiny light from within their trunks. The thousand of lights flew towards Harry's form, congregating around him in the clearing. Harry caught light from under his eyelids, and blearily blinked his emerald eyes open. He watched, open mouthed as the many lights danced around him. As if drawn by an invisible force, they gathered into one huge ball of light right in front of Harry.

He blinked at it and reached out his hands, the warm light burying itself in his embrace and then shooting down his open mouth. Harry's eyes burned blinding light into the clearing. The cut on his hand healing over with brand new skin. When he opened his eyes again he was two as one. Harry Potter and Michael. His grace had returned to him. The clearing was silent, save for a small gasp.

And he remembered.

His Father, his true Father, tall and foreboding. Who appeared before him, reached out towards him and whispered.

" _Go forth, my son, and learn."_

Then he was waking up crying, as a young _human_ baby. Time warped to bring him to Lily and James Potter, and there, he was born. He fought for his life. He died for the lives of others. And through it all, he gained more than he could imagine. The Weasleys, who had perished in the war, would always be his second family.

Young Ron with his dirty nose and freckled face, who had not judged where he came from and always let go of his jealousy to come back. Fred and George, who kept everyone smiling despite it all, and helped him where they could. Bill and Charlie, who would always come back to protect their family, even when they had lives of their own. Ginny, who went from blindly adoring him to a true friend, always talking sense into his thick skull. Molly and Arthur, who took him in as their own child, even when they already had so much to worry about. Even Hermione was always helping him when she had her own dreams, dreams she was now pursuing with a passion. They had taught him how a family _should_ be. Having their differences, but always together in the end.

The being who was both Harry and Michael smiled, knowing then what he had to do.

"Thank you Father, I understand now."


End file.
